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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28864095">Horizon</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/michelleinnit/pseuds/michelleinnit'>michelleinnit</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Video Blogging RPF</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>AU where Tommy doesn't go to Techno's after Dream blows up Logstedshire, Gen, He has been alone for two years, cw: suicide/suicidal thoughts, someone help him pls</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-01-19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-01-21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 08:41:24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,779</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28864095</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/michelleinnit/pseuds/michelleinnit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>" Well, at least he assumed it was the second anniversary. Time slips from you when you’re alone. Days drag on, nights even longer. Eventually it all seems the same.<br/>Day? Night? Summer? Winter? It didn’t matter. <br/>He was alone for it all "</p>
<p>or</p>
<p>Tommy stayed in exile after Dream blew up Logstedshire and has been alone since.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>125</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter One</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Tommy’s eyes open groggily, the faint sunrise peering directly into his tent. He rubs a hand over his face, wishing that for once he could get more than four hours of sleep, before sitting up to start his day.<br/>He shoves his feet into shoes he outgrew long ago, the soles barely clinging onto the bottoms from the hundreds of miles he has walked in them, making a mental note to find more string to try and repair them.</p>
<p>Instinctively he checks to make sure his ender chest was still present by his side. No one had been by in ages but he was still fearful it would be taken while he slept. Then, with slight hesitation, he opened it. It was a special day, after all, maybe he deserved to have a little music with the sunrise.<br/>With a small smile, Tommy pulls out a disc at random, the sun not quite high enough to provide enough light to read the titles.</p>
<p>He hugs one of his prized possessions to his chest as he walks out of his small tent, taking a seat on a bench he had made facing the ocean. Carefully, he places the disc in the player, holding his breath when it takes a moment to play.<br/>A light melody fills the air, a tune he had once described as “space like”.<br/>Chirp.</p>
<p>Tommy laughs slightly to himself, bitter tears forming at the edges of his eyes. Of course it was this disc. Why would it not be?<br/>Out of all the ones he had in that stupid chest, he chose Tubbo’s favorite. On the second anniversary of his exile.</p>
<p>Well, at least he assumed it was the second anniversary. Time slips from you when you’re alone. Days drag on, nights even longer. Eventually it all seems the same.<br/>Day? Night? Summer? Winter? It didn’t matter. <br/>He was alone for it all.</p>
<p>Tommy sighed and stood, taking the disc out before it had the chance to finish. <br/>What a rotten start to the day.</p>
<p>The disc seemed less precious to him now, the memory of his old best friend tainting the beautiful instrumental he used to love.<br/>He threw it back in the tent recklessly, fighting the urge to make sure it wasn’t broken.</p>
<p>“You don’t have time,” he tells himself as he walks from the tent, “it’s an important day, Big T”</p>
<p>By now the sun had finally come up, shining gently on the grass, the dew glistening.</p>
<p>Tommy used to appreciate these things, when he was first alone.<br/>Now grass was just grass and dew just made his socks wet.</p>
<p>He steadily made his way down the path to Logstedshire, cringing at the discomfort of rocks finding their way into his shoes.<br/>God he needed to repair them. Or teach himself how to make new ones.</p>
<p>Logstedshire was nowhere near its former glory, the walls and house it enclosed had been crudely rebuilt by Tommy himself when he was just sixteen. Recently he had made it an ongoing project to rebuild again, hoping he could do it justice with more experience. However, he just found himself frustrated more often than not. It had been years since he had seen Logstedshire before it was blown to pieces, and he cursed himself for not remembering the minor details.</p>
<p>Tommy tore through various barrels he stored on the property, searching for some baking supplies he had forgotten about forever ago.<br/>He was rarely in the mood to bake and never had the occasion to so what would be the point in putting the sugar in a normal, easy-to-find place?</p>
<p>Mumbling swears under his breath, he searched through tens of barrels, having to retuck his hair behind his ears God knows how many times, before finally recovering what he needed.<br/>With a satisfied grin he makes his way into the small wooden house where he keeps his furnace.<br/>He had collected the milk and eggs yesterday and was thankful to see them still sitting on the counter.</p>
<p>Tommy haphazardly throws all the ingredients into a bucket, his rapid mixing sloshing the not fully saturated milk over the edge.<br/>It briefly occurs to him that he hasn’t made a cake since his failed beach party and is fully relying on muscle memory to help him make this thing. </p>
<p>“Well, I’ve gotten this far already,” he sighs to himself, placing the slightly botched mix into the furnace, “No turning back now.”</p>
<p>Tommy then resigns to a nearby chair to keep an eye on the cake, praying that he won’t burn the whole place down.</p>
<p>--------------------</p>
<p>The sand was cool beneath his feet and Tommy welcomed the feeling of it between his toes. <br/>He sits alone at a table for eight, breathing in the calm ocean air. <br/>The cake placed in front of him was hardly touched, as if that was surprising. What person could finish this whole thing in one sitting, especially since it wasn’t that good.</p>
<p>Tommy stared out into the ocean for a good while, hardly noticing the way he was fiddling with the smooth compass in his pocket. <br/>It was an odd habit he had developed since his exile. A way of subtly fidgeting when he had guests.<br/>He never had guests anymore.<br/>As the dusk turned to dark, Tommy stood, his heart heavy.<br/>Something in him had almost convinced him today would be the day.<br/>Two years was a long time for someone to be alone, let alone a child. Of course he wasn’t a child anymore, his 18th birthday came and went just like any other day, but he was still so helpless when they left him. When his best friend abandoned him. Alone. Forgotten.</p>
<p>He slowly made his way back to his tent, not worrying about the cake he had left on the table. It was sure to be there in the morning if he still wanted it.</p>
<p>Tommy stops, right before entering, his eyes drawn to the sea.<br/>It had been a long time since he had these thoughts, even longer since he acted upon them in his sleep.<br/>But today was special. It was special.<br/>“It was supposed to be so special…” he whispers, stepping slightly closer to the water.</p>
<p>Suddenly, noises of mobs lure him out of his thoughts. He shakes his head and heads inside.</p>
<p>“It’s not your time, Tommy.” he assures himself.</p>
<p>A soft crunch echoes throughout the tent.</p>
<p>Tommy looks down, his worst fears confirmed as he moves his foot.<br/>It was Chirp. He had crushed Chirp.</p>
<p>Tears blurred his vision as he quickly dropped to the ground, hoping that somehow it would be salvageable. <br/>The disc came out of its sleeve in four pieces, almost perfectly symmetrical.<br/>It took everything in him not to sob.</p>
<p>“It's just a disc,” he says, his voice strained, “Stop crying over a stupid disc.”</p>
<p>But it wasn’t just a disc.<br/>It was <em>Tubbo’s<em> disc.</em></em></p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>His hands fly to the small circle in his pocket, and he quickly takes it out, checking it for marks as if it and the disc were connected somehow.</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>The golden compass was perfect, the only marks in it being the engraved words “Your Tubbo”.</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>Tommy hugs the small object to his chest, despite it being able to fit in just one hand.<br/>He still had something of his. He still had a way home.</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>Carefully, Tommy slides the compass back into his pocket. He rubs his hands over his eyes for a moment before picking up the broken pieces of Chirp.<br/>He considers burying it, for a moment, before deciding how childish that would be.<br/>It was just a circle with some grooves on it. He could always find another.</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>He places it on a chest in the corner before sitting on his bed, now thoroughly exhausted.<br/>He blows out his torch and lays back, hoping tomorrow will be a better day.</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>--------------------</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>Tommy wakes with a start, pulling the sword out from under his bed, chest heaving.<br/>He heard something. He knows he did.</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>Quietly he gets out of bed, crouching to see out between where the ground and his tent met.</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>
      <em>Feet<em></em></em>
    </em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>
      <em>
        <em>Someone was here.</em>
      </em>
    </em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>
      <em>
        <em>“Dream,” Tommy whispers as he stands, his heart practically beating out of his chest.</em>
      </em>
    </em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>
      <em>
        <em>He actually came back. After all this time he came back.<br/>He really did care.</em>
      </em>
    </em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>
      <em>
        <em>Tommy walked out of his tent, sword at his side, expecting to see the familiar white mask and green hoodie.</em>
      </em>
    </em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>
      <em>
        <em>He was greeted by another figure entirely.</em>
      </em>
    </em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>
      <em>
        <em>“Tubbo?” he asks.</em>
      </em>
    </em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>
      <em>
        <em>And he raises his sword.</em>
      </em>
    </em>
  </em>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter Two</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I am absolutely floored! I was not expecting so many people to see this story in so little time!<br/>To show how grateful I am, I wrote up the second chapter today as a little thank you! </p>
<p>Also, I wasn't 100% sure if sbi was going to be a thing here so I didn't include it in the tags but yes it is. I just could not help myself haha</p>
<p>Enjoy the chapter &lt;33</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Tubbo takes a small step back, his face paling, “Tommy?”</p>
<p>Tommy strides forward, trying to intimidate the smaller boy despite his shaking hands, “What do you want? Why are you here?”</p>
<p>“I didn’t know you’d..” he stutters.</p>
<p>“I’d what? Be ready for you? Be angry? You left me here for two years, you have no idea what I’m capable of!” he shouts, hoping Tubbo won’t call him out on his bluff.</p>
<p>“I didn’t know you were alive!” Tubbo responds, his voice breaking.</p>
<p>Tommy lowers the sword slightly, his heart dropping.<br/>
“What?”</p>
<p>“We all thought you were dead, Tommy. Dream told us that you’d…” he cuts himself off, “All this time you’ve been here? Alone?”</p>
<p>“Yes I’ve been here alone! You didn’t even think for a second you should come fact check him? Since when did you trust Dream?” </p>
<p>Tommy regretted it the moment he said it, dread settling in his stomach. He shouldn’t say those things about Dream. Dream was his friend, Dream looked out for him.<br/>
Dream lied about his death.</p>
<p>“We had other priorities, Tommy! When you didn’t come marching into L’Manberg within the week, we all just assumed it was true…”</p>
<p>Tommy let his hand graze the outline of the compass in his pocket.<br/>
Of course he had thought about going home, he almost did so many times.<br/>
But he was terrified of what they might do to him if he returned and, after the fear faded, he thought that no one would care anyways. If no one came for him he wasn’t going to them.</p>
<p>“I’m so sorry,” Tubbo says, filling the silence, “If I had known…”</p>
<p>“Well you didn’t,” Tommy snaps, looking away, “You didn’t know. You didn’t come. Nobody did.”</p>
<p>Tubbo steps forward, “Let me bring you back to my place, Tommy. We..we can fix this! We can be friends again.”</p>
<p>He sighs, mulling it over. Maybe a night in a proper house with some real company wouldn’t be too bad.<br/>
“Fine. I’ll come with you,” he answers, returning his sword to his side, “but I can’t promise to be your friend.”</p>
<p>Tubbo looks at him for a second, as if he wanted to say something, before turning away.<br/>
“Home is this way. Boy, will everyone be surprised to see you!”</p>
<p>“Everyone?”<br/>
--------------------</p>
<p>The long walk to the house all but killed Tommy’s shoes. The soles flapped slightly as the pair walked in silence, the only sounds being mobs hiding in the shade of the trees.<br/>
Tommy had no idea how, or why, Tubbo had made the first trip alone. The walk was just over half a day and the terrain was quite challenging.</p>
<p>“Here we are,” Tubbo says as he walks through a clearing, “Home sweet home.”</p>
<p>The house was pretty decent, way better than Tommy’s frail tent. It was clear that Tubbo hadn’t built it alone, the craftsmanship too neat for someone of his skill level. </p>
<p>“I’m back!” Tubbo shouts as he opens the front door, “Oh! And I’ve brought someone!”</p>
<p>“Tubbo, I swear to God if you brought an orphan into this house,” a familiar voice yells from upstairs.</p>
<p>Tommy glanced up in the direction the voice came from, hoping to see who it was, but there was just an empty staircase. The whole house felt a bit empty, if he was honest.<br/>
It was quiet. Why was it so quiet?</p>
<p>“Tommy?” </p>
<p>Tommy’s head turns to the sound of his name and he can’t help but smile slightly, “Hi, Phil.”</p>
<p>Phil rushes over to him, clearly trying to hold back tears, “We thought...how did you..?”</p>
<p>Tommy shrugs off Phil’s attempt at a hug, “I just survived, Old Man. Nice of you to check up on me, by the way. Means the world.”</p>
<p>Phil’s face drops, “Tommy, it’s not like that.”</p>
<p>“Oh, really, Phil? Then what is it like?”</p>
<p>“I know I should have come. We all should have. We just thought..” he sighs, not knowing if he should finish.</p>
<p>“It's alright, Phil. I already told him,” Tubbo says quietly.</p>
<p>Tommy steps back slightly, “You know what? Fuck that. Who cares if you thought I was dead! None of you wanted to come give me a proper burial? A funeral? A fucking farewell? Your story is bullshit!”</p>
<p>“Tommy calm down, please. I can explain,” Phil replies calmly, his ‘Tommy meltdown procedure’ still ingrained in his mind from raising the little demon.</p>
<p>“I don’t want your explanations, Phil,” Tommy replies coldly.</p>
<p>A door opens from somewhere in the house, footsteps hurriedly rushing their location.<br/>
“Phil? Is everything alright? I thought I heard-” Wilbur stops in the center of the room, analyzing the boy in front of him.</p>
<p>“Wilbur?” Tommy asks, suddenly forgetting about his anger, “How are you...back?”</p>
<p>Wilbur laughs awkwardly, rubbing a hand on the back of his neck, “That’s kind of a long story.”</p>
<p>“It’s not like I have anywhere to be,” he replies, crossing his arms.</p>
<p>“Wait. Tommy. Aren’t you supposed to be…?” Wil begins, glancing at Phil.</p>
<p>“Dead?” Tommy interjects bluntly, “Yeah. I guess I am.”</p>
<p>Suddenly, Wilbur begins to laugh, “I’m sorry, it’s not funny but...God you really <em>are<em> a stubborn one, aren’t you?”</em></em></p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>“Nothing, nothing, it’s just...you really spent two years alone because you didn’t want to be the first one to say something? Honestly, I admire you, Tommy. That’s fucking gold.”</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>Tommy’s face heats with embarrassment, “Shut up, Wilbur!”</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>“Boys, please.” Phil interrupts, “Can we just have a happy reunion? For once in our lives?”</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>“Woulda been a lot happier if it happened two years ago, Mr. Minecraft,” Tommy snidely remarks.</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>Phil sighs, trying his best to keep his composure, “Okay. I think we’ve talked about that enough for right now. We’re all just...shocked, and tired, and...it’s time for lunch!”</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>“But Phil, we just had-” Wilbur starts.</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>“I’ll get something cooking. Tubbo, can you find Tommy some new clothes?”</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>“Um yeah, sure…” Tubbo replies, already knowing he’ll have to raid Wilbur’s closet to find anything that’ll fit Tommy.</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>“I’ll have Wil find you when the food’s ready.”</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>“Alright Phil,” Tubbo says as he takes Tommy by the wrist, pulling him up the stairs with him.</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>Tommy smiles despite himself as he walks with Tubbo.<br/>
It was good to be back</em>
  </em>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter Three</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>(tw: mention of suicide, descriptions of violence/injury)</p>
<p>I know I said I wouldn't update daily but I needed something to do while I procrastinated my homework and writing is just fun &lt;3</p>
<p>Thank you all for the support! Seeing how many people have already read this is so insane to me.<br/>I appreciate each and every kudos!<br/>And both the comments I have received made my whole week.</p>
<p>I hope you enjoy the chapter!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Can someone pass the gravy?” Techno grunts from across the table, his mood soured by the chaos that has entered the house since Tommy arrived home.</p>
<p>“I don’t know, Techno...Can I?” Tommy replies, already laughing at his own joke, clearly just trying to get a rise out of him.</p>
<p>“Tommy, I’m not afraid to take you back to your little tent. Hand me the gravy.”</p>
<p>Tommy groans and pushes the gravy boat towards him, “Jesus, alright. It was just a joke.”</p>
<p>“An unfunny one,” Wilbur comments, not even looking up at his family.</p>
<p>“I thought it was pretty good!” Tubbo chimes in with a smile.</p>
<p>“Thank you, Tubbo,” Tommy mumbles.</p>
<p>Tubbo’s eyes brighten, ecstatic that Tommy said something nice to him for the first time since he’s been home.</p>
<p>“I wish I had a better meal for tonight, Tommy,” Phil says, “Beef roast isn’t exactly the best welcome home dinner.”</p>
<p>“Oh it's alright, Phil. It's probably the best meal I’ve had since exile...Which isn’t really that much of a feat. Unseasoned pork chops were my specialty out there,” Tommy replies, quickly adding the last part to cancel out the compliment.</p>
<p>Phil laughs softly, “Well, I’m glad you like it.”</p>
<p>“It makes one of us,” Wilbur quips, despite the fact that his meal was nearly finished already.</p>
<p>Phil just rolls his eyes.</p>
<p>Tommy can’t help but smile, it was really nice to have normal conversation again.</p>
<p>“Looks like Tommy’s done being cold to us,” Techno says, grinning at him. Payback for the gravy incident.</p>
<p>Tommy scowls at him, “Shut up, Techno.”</p>
<p>“He’s right, Tommy. I don’t remember the last time I saw you smile” Phil says cheerfully.</p>
<p>“Maybe it's because you haven’t seen me in two years, Philza,” Tommy snaps back.</p>
<p>“Now you’ve done it,” Tubbo mumbles.</p>
<p>“Shut up, Tubbo. You’re not a part of this.”</p>
<p>“Tommy, apologize.” Phil says sternly, his joyful mood gone.</p>
<p>“No. I haven’t done anything!” </p>
<p>“Tommy-” Phil begins.</p>
<p>Wilbur interrupts, “Step outside with me for a bit, Tommy.”</p>
<p>Tommy looks at him, “What?”</p>
<p>Wilbur stands, “Step outside with me.”</p>
<p>Reluctantly Tommy stands as well, following his brother out the back door.</p>
<p>Wilbur sits on the ground, patting the space next to him.<br/>Tommy sighs and sits, sitting  further away than Wilbur wanted.</p>
<p>Wilbur stays silent, just watching the wind blow through the trees.<br/>Tommy picks at the grass, his anger still bubbling inside him.</p>
<p>“Why the hell are we out here?” he asks.</p>
<p>“I wanted to talk with you.” Wilbur replies calmly.</p>
<p>“I don’t want to talk.”</p>
<p>“That’s fine. We can just sit then, I can wait.”</p>
<p>Tommy groans, “God you’re so stubborn and annoying and...old.”</p>
<p>Wilbur can’t help but laugh, “Exile really got you rusty. You need to practice your insults some more.”</p>
<p>“You need to practice your insults some more,” Tommy mocks.</p>
<p>“Good one, Tom.” Wil replies unenthusiastically.</p>
<p>“Just shut up, Wilbur!” Tommy shouts, “Nobody likes you! You’re rude and mean and ugly and so uncool!”</p>
<p>Wilbur looks at him, eyes void of emotion, “You done?”</p>
<p>He crosses his arms as a response, not wanting to give a proper answer.</p>
<p>“Can we talk now?”</p>
<p>Tommy sighs dramatically, “Sure, Wilbur.”</p>
<p>Wilbur looks ahead again, knowing this will be easier without looking at his little brother.<br/>“I know you’re angry, Tommy. And you have every right to be. I can’t imagine being alone for that long, especially at your age...but you can’t take it out on your family like this.”</p>
<p>“And why not? You all abandoned me, Wilbur. That’s not my fault. If I want to yell about it I have every right to.”</p>
<p>“It’s not our fault either. Dream told us you died. It’s just stupid to go out searching for a dead man.”</p>
<p>A shudder runs through Tommy at the mention of Dream, “Why would no one come bury me if you all thought I was dead? Why would none of you come verify that it was even me!”</p>
<p>“Because we were told there was nothing left!”</p>
<p>Tommy looks at Wilbur, surprised that he would shout like that.<br/>“What?” he asks, almost in a whisper.</p>
<p>“Dream told us,” he takes a small breath, unsure if he should even say this, “he told us you killed yourself, Tommy. Said he watched you jump into lava in the Nether. All your belongings...all of you…<em>gone<em>.”</em></em></p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>Tommy stares at him for a second, “I...I would never do that, Wil.”<br/>He felt guilty for lying, but what was he supposed to say? That he’d almost done exactly that countless times?<br/>That Dream was the only thing keeping him alive this whole time?</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>Wilbur sighs quietly, “I know, Tommy.”</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>Tommy picks at the grass again, “Wilbur...I want to forgive you. I really do. But I just...you don’t know how hard it is. I didn’t ask for all this!”</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>Wilbur laughs, “Do you think I asked for this, Tommy? I was just fine being dead! Happy, even!”</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>“They brought you back against your will?”</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>Wilbur nods, “But the thing is...I forgave them. I understand why they did it and I moved on. You can do the same.”</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>Tommy sighs, “I’ll try, Wil.”</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>“That’s all I ask, Tommy” he replies with a smile, “Let’s head back in, I think Phil made pie.”</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>--------------------</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>His lungs burned as he ran, the sounds of swords clashing and people screaming filling the air. He had to make it. He had to.<br/>He stands alone on the battlefield, L’Manberg crumbling under warfare. <br/>It was supposed to be over. They were supposed to be free.</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>He could feel the heat before he heard the explosion, the energy knocking him off his feet, his skin tearing against the hard earth. His ears rang as he looked up, eyes focusing on the rubble. He was too late.</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>“Wilbur!”<br/>He swore he yelled it, but he heard nothing. He was completely helpless. Useless. Defeated.</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>All he could do was watch as his father plunged the sword into his brother’s stomach</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>--------------------</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>Tommy awoke with a start, his body still aching from the dream. He brings his knees to his chest, wrapping his arms around them.<br/>“It was just a dream...you’re fine..” he whispers to himself.</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>“Tommy?”</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>He yelps and snaps his gaze across the room. How could he have forgotten he wasn’t alone?</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>“Tubbo, why are you awake?” he asks irritably.</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>“I couldn’t get to sleep.” he replies, sitting up, “Haven’t been able to lately, if I’m being honest.”</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>“I get the feeling”</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>“Are you okay?” </em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>“Of course, why wouldn’t I be?” </em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>Tubbo sighs slightly, “Well for starters, you sat up so quick I thought you were possessed or something...And you were crying in your sleep.”</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>Tommy subtly raises a hand to his cheek, his skin still damp, “Oh…”</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>“Tommy, it's okay. You can talk about it if you want.” Tubbo says gently.</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>“There’s nothing to talk about! I don’t even remember the stupid dream,” Tommy replies defensively.</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>“I get nightmares too. There’s no need to be embarrassed.”</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>“Shut up, Tubbo. I’m not embarrassed” he grumbles, laying back down, “Just go to sleep.”</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>Tubbo looks at Tommy for another moment before laying back again, “Fine. Be that way.”</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>Tommy stares up at the ceiling, knowing there’s no chance he’ll be able to get back to sleep now.</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>“Hey, Tommy?” Tubbo begins hesitantly, “I know you probably weren’t planning to but, can you not tell Phil about this? I can’t stand another ‘You need sleep’ talk.”</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>“Yeah, sure, Tubbo.”</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>“I won’t tell him about the nightmares either. Or anyone. It can be our secret,” he says, looking over at Tommy.</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>“Gee, thanks,” Tommy replies sarcastically.<br/>He really was thankful, but something in him wasn’t ready to be genuine with Tubbo yet. He can’t let him get close again.</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>Tubbo rolls over, facing the wall, “Goodnight, Tommy.”</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>Tommy doesn’t reply.</em>
  </em>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thank you so much for reading!<br/>I've had this idea for a long time now and was super excited about finally publishing it!</p>
<p>Make sure you comment and/or leave kudos if you enjoy :)<br/>I really appreciate all feedback!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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